


Weakness

by ishie



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: 100-1000 Words, 2009, M/M, One Shot, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-29
Updated: 2009-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishie/pseuds/ishie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack was still in a very precarious position, both mentally and physically, and no one knew for sure how long it would last. The double-secret classification of the Gay Bomb made it impossible to get a qualified medical opinion, and Dr. Spaceman had only given him a bottle of pink pills and a wink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt: **awkward conversations; for [Porn Battle VII](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/394717.html)
> 
> Uh. Don't ask. It didn't turn out as porny as I'd like, mostly because none of those words belong in a story with the /Other who appears here. *shudder* Thanks to totesnotakitten for the beta ♥

"Are you sure I can't get you anything else, Mr. Donaghy?" Jonathan wrung his hands together. "I still have a barrel of cheese balls behind my desk!"

Jack tried to wave him off. "No, thank you, Jonathan. I'm just going to enjoy the comforts of the old office. My _new_ old office, I guess I should call it."

He tried to step around his assistant without making any kind of physical contact. He was still in a very precarious position, both mentally and physically, and no one knew for sure how long it would last. The double-secret classification of the Gay Bomb made it impossible to get a qualified medical opinion, and Dr. Spaceman had only given him a bottle of pink pills and a wink.

Just when Jack thought he'd made it safely past and was ready to step into his office and close the door, Jonathan lunged at him. He reared back as Jonathan wrapped his arms around him and wailed, "I'm so happy you're back!"

He was holding on for dear life but that wasn't the only reason Jack was suddenly short of breath. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth and thought of Governor Reagan facing down a mob of angry Berkeley hippies. If only he could display such strength of will! To face one's darkest days and not waver, to stay the course with that thick, luscious mane of Just for Men™ Darkest Brown shining in the sun...

He gasped when Jonathan giggled breathily and said, "Oh, Mr. _Donaghy_," as he pressed the back of his hand against Jack's rapidly hardening cock. He wrenched away from his assistant, giving him a wild-eyed stare and just barely managing to keep from throwing himself at him, before running into the office and locking the door behind him.

This was going to be a very long day.

By eleven o'clock, he'd run out of the Little Debbie snack cakes that Kathy Geiss had kept hidden in the washroom, the ones with the little sprinkles on top. By twelve, he'd been into his own liquor cabinet and liberated a bottle of scotch from behind the juice boxes.

By one-thirty, he'd broken. There was no use fighting it. The chemicals still coursing through his blood wouldn't let him. He couldn't stop thinking about things that he could never admit to doing, or liking, not if he wanted to continue watching _The O'Reilly Factor_ with a clear conscience. But he couldn't stop thinking about the men in that room with him. About Cooter and General Halifax and that Marine guard who'd never even removed his boots...

After two drinks worth of fumbling with the buttons, he figured out how to dial his desk phone and wedged himself into the space under his desk, with a unicorn and a half-full glass of whiskey clutched to his chest.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered into the phone. "The way you held me in your arms, the light bouncing off your bared shoulders, the-"

"We can't do this, Jack," was the brusque reply. "You and I both know there are much larger things at stake than what we have between us."

"But-"

"No, Jack. This is the last time we can ever speak. Perhaps one day, when we've routed all the terrorism in the world and crushed those pinko Democrats, two men will be free to give in to their chemically-induced passion without fear of retribution and hatred. But that is not this day."

Jack clutched the phone tighter, listening hard for that sarcastic little chuckle that always sent shivers down his spine.

"I'm going back to the secret undisclosed location now. Don't try to find me."

"I won't, Mr. Vice President. But I'll think of you every time I tell some godless hippie to go fuck himself."

After the click, Jack stayed under the desk for a long time. Eventually, Jonathan worked up the nerve to ask over the intercom if there was anything he could do.

"Get me a seat on the redeye to Reagan National," Jack answered, and cursed his wartime weakness. He needed the comfort of another man's arms, a man who knew what it meant to be a casualty of the Bush Administration without ever setting foot on a battlefield or being the US Attorney in one of seven districts. A man who knew the pain of printing reports on a computer that was actually a cardboard display model, and the agony of discovery that the most erotic sexual encounter of one's lifetime was with a man one could never have.

_I need Cooter Burger!_ he thought as he hugged the unicorn close.

**Author's Note:**

> Started: 27 January 2009  
> Finished: 29 January 2009


End file.
